Yesterday Once More
by rainybamboo
Summary: Accidentally, Agent May and Coulson travelled back to the past and met the six-year-old Skye. They all had a second chance for the emotional belonging they never had. Skye's family moments with our beloved agents and some Philinda Romance.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Agent of SHIELD and all these lovely characters. English is not my first language so please excuse the possible flaws and feel free to point it out. **_

_Yesterday Once More_

_Rainybamboo_

"People are staring." A extremely sullen-looking Agent Melinda May muttered as they forced their way through the crowd.

"Which is totally legitimate considering you're in a really tight suit." Agent Philip Coulson snickered, apparently sharing none of his partner's annoyance.

"NOT helping." May hissed through her teeth while raising one hand to loosen her collar. Tight suit or not, wearing latex under the golden California sun was never enjoyable.

He almost sensed pouting in her voice. He could tell that whichever shield she was using to guard her heart had been cracked a little these days and he got sneak peeks of the old, carefree Melinda May occasionally.

Puzzlingly, May frowned at Coulson's secretive smirk. "Where are we anyway?"

"LA."

"Hilarious. You mean since we just came cross this large signpost..." May remarked dryly, "You know what I mean. What damn universe?"

"Judging by people's outfit? I'd say no more that late 90s."

Oh she hated this calm, almost amused tone of his, especially in a nerve-racking situation like this, not that she didn't take a leaf out of his book sometimes. "And we are in this...this..."

"...temporal disorder..."

"...this temporal disorder thing because?"

"We were caught in a magnetic storm."

"A magnetic storm?" May raised a suspicious eyebrow, which devolved into an accusing growl, "You have no idea why either, aren't you?"

"Not a single clue." Coulson said in such a peaceful manner, which he'd maintained since they landed in this crazy world, but winked his eye just for good measure.

Inevitably, May rolled her eyes, "So where are we heading for?"

"Contacting S.H.I.E.L.D.. I have this feeling that the Hub knows way more than we give it credit for, even with a 20-year gap." It would be a sore spot for both of them, because not only the agency no longer existed in their own world, but also a younger version of them were somewhere in it, living a life that they would never have the privilege to relish again.

Next to him, May let out a barely audible sigh, and he knew the same thought struck her too. However, being Agent May, she just shrugged, "At least convince them to lend us a vehicle."

* * *

And that's how they ended up on the street again, with slightly fancier transportation, a 1990 Buick LeSabre, and a not-so-fancy mission to complete. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had accepted their "situation" without showing even a hint of shock. And they had been informed that, yes, they were taken back to the past because of a "time leakage", which was a random but roughly periodical occurrence, and yes they did have a secret setup dealing with those "lost lambs" like them. "Still above your pay grade, Agent May. " The Directer had said pointedly when May didn't even try to hide her glare at the revelation, "You'll be here for a while. Better to make yourself productive."

They got temporary badge, gear-up, a safe house and a guardian mission to kill time with. "Stay put and minimum your exposure. Don't want to bump into the younger you. And we wouldn't confine them even if we could. " the Director had added the last part with evident bitterness, and Coulson couldn't help but wonder what kind of impression he and May had made on their superiors back in their late twenties.

=x=

"No." said May firmly after a critical glance at the black sedan. She then swiftly buckled up in the front passenger seat.

Coulson probably would come up with some smart retort if he didn't a much painful task to focus on. Finding an uptown location based on coordinates without help of GPS was a nightmare he had thought he would never experienced again.

Completely ignoring Coulson's struggle, May opened the mission file to see what precious cargo they were assigned to guard.

"Mary Sue Poots, female, age six. " May read out loud, then swore under her breath, "You MUST be kidding."

* * *

By the time they pulled up outside Merryvale Orphanage, May had long finished reading. The rest of drive was in silence. The file wasn't very informative, mainly records of a child being kicked around among foster homes pretty much since her infancy. There were also a few records of her being put in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s temporary custody due to "security concern". Nothing indicated how she ended up in the system. That part of history was still buried deep in the S.H.I.E.L.D. archive jumble.

They showed their badge and transfer document to the perky young man at the front desk.

"Ah, I see you come for Mary Sue. Earlier this year uh? Hope nobody fills in complaints this time. " Coulson thought the clerk had to be unbelievably ignorant to keep rambling like this when someone as scary as May was practically looking daggers at him. "She will be ready in half an hour. Our staff will bring her out. Please wait here."

Exactly thirty-four minutes later, a skinny brunette girl went in dragging a worn half-empty luggage bag along with her. She was in an old baggy T-shirt, a pair of jeans that was two size too large rolled up at the bottom, and her should-length hair was untamed, too. She looked around in a daring manner rare for her age and fixed her big brown eyes at the strange adult questioningly.

"Hello, Mary." Coulson stepped up to greet the little girl, and could hardly keep a straight face when the kid snorted, "My name is Agent Coulson and this is Agent May. You will be staying with us for a while." The girl shrugged. "We are about to leave now. You need some time to say goodbye to your friends?" The girl merely shrugged again. "Ok then." Coulson held out a hand for the girl to take, who mutely declined the offer, using both of her hands to lift her bag instead and followed the agents out.

=x=

The third time May checked up on the girl in the side mirror, they were on the way to the safe house. The kid was wearing a weird, intense look on her face. Her eyes wandered and met May's. For a six-year-old, she did a pretty impressive job at pretending innocence, but a twist of her right confirmed May's suspicion.

"No funny business in the car, kid. " The girl froze at May's quiet but unchallengeable voice and withdrew her hands immediately. Surprised at how the girl actually held up against the warning, May hid the smile behind her poker face, "Go sit in the middle and fasten your seatbelt. Keep your hands where I can see it."

The girl whimpered but obeyed.

The silence went on for another five minutes before the girl finally spoke up. "Are you Catwoman?" She asked in such a tiny tentative voice.

Coulson made a sound like he might be choking on his saliva.

"No, I am not." May answered matter-of-factly.

"Oh." The girl looked down at her lap and showed extra interest in playing with her fingers.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**Please review and tell me what you think about it.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thank you for all your amazing reviews and alerts. Hope you enjoy this Chapter too._**

* * *

They were in a whirl, trying to settle themselves in the small house. Experienced agents as they were, neither of them specialized in handling small kids: they both grew up without younger sibling; and their profession didn't usually encourage providing free babysit service for their colleagues. On the other hand, arranging for a kid to be well-fed, presentably dressed, and adequately, if not constructively entertained required much more than just tactical planning. For one, you could hardly claim that scrambled eggs at breakfast was strategically advantageous, and giving orders was most certainly not the best way to end the who-will-do-laundry argument. Simply put, they were expected to cooperate on a whole new level.

Despite all the struggle, Coulson found it easy to be domestic together with May. He had discovered over the years that, as long as it was out of the field, Melinda May could be quite easygoing on certain aspects, just like he was. As a result, housework were shared after minimum exchanges and appreciating each other's handiwork was as easy in their household as in the battlefield. Well, it did help tremendously that, while May was meticulous and efficient as ever, he was no sloppy fool himself.

* * *

When May started chopping up vegetable, Coulson excused himself, intending to help the kid unpack. They had agreed that the kid should have her own room, even though none of the rooms in this safe house were designed for children. Every piece of furniture was rather large for a six year old, and he was quite concerned about how she'd been dealing with it.

However, minutes later, he couldn't decide which was worth more of his concern-the fact that the girl was currently lying on the floor at the center of the room, or that she was using her bag and clothes as cushion, delicately balancing herself on the top of it.

"What are you doing, Mary? " The kid sat up, immediately on alert. "Why are you not unpacking? "

The kid shrugged, "Because you haven't talk about rules."

"Excuse me? "

"They always have so many rules...you know, in other foster homes. " The kid was picking at her fingers again; he could tell it was a nervous habit.

"Is it important to you that I talk about rules? " He hoped his voice sounded soothing enough, because, to be honest, this conversation was wearing down his nerve, too.

"So you can't trick me into real trouble any more. " the kid snapped; wary eyes finally focused on him. Coulson sensed that there was some unpleasant story, but he didn't push.

"Wouldn't dream of it." he said solemnly instead, hoping it would convince the kid.

The kid appeared to hesitate over trusting him on this one. "So you don't have rules? " she asked after a long pause.

"Uh, about that," now he was secretly hoping May was by his side, while at the same time ashamed of and puzzled by that particular impulse; he was the team leader after all, and he did pride himself on his better paternal instinct. Anyway, he just had to improvise, "how about this. First, you cannot get out of this house without at least one of us being with you. It's for your own safety." The kid didn't give much of an reaction. "Second, whenever you make a promise to me or Agent May, it's really important that you keep it. " It was slightly unconventional, he knew, but a mild success, since the kid visibly straightened up a little. "And last, keep in mind that this is not a foster home." He smirked to himself when the kid just stared at him.

"That's it?" she asked skeptically.

"Yeah, think you can stick to them?"

The kid shrugged again, "Fine."

"Great. Thank you." He smiled approvingly, "Now maybe I can help you put things in your closet? I know it's too tall for you..."

The kid made a very unimpressed face at his suggestion, moved the chair behind the desk, climbed up with great agility and reached for the top shelf. She then jumped down, self-satisfaction written all over her face.

_Show-off, _he thought, but kept his face blank, not willing to encourage the deed, "...All right then. Just be careful when you do that."

"Once I climbed up the water pipe and sneaked a jar of worms into Mrs. Lynn's room. She's the latest foster mom. " the kid bragged, eyeing him boldly, clearly waiting for his reaction.

Luckily he had been practicing unreadable expression for decades; he was able to proceed in a fairly neutral way, "Do you know what 'even monkeys fall out of trees' means?"

The kid shook her head, but seemed curious.

"It means that you should always be very careful, no matter how many times you've done it." _Because the bad thing happened at the most unexpected time, _he added to himself bitterly. He thought back to that life-changing incident, when his best friend went in and came out as a different person. It was supposed to be an innocent routine mission, but everything had gone wrong. After that, all of their ritual after-work drinks or light-hearted banter had vanished into the thin air; that part of himself was dead there, too. May's brave face, with that forced smile right before she went in, was haunting him again; at that moment, she was trying so hard to be strong for both of them. Her exact word had been "you're so gonna buy me a drink after this"; he never got the chance.

"I will be careful." Soft voice drew him out of reminiscence, but his mind still lingered in the overwhelming nostalgia-a courtesy of aging, he sighed. Vaguely, he discerned the frizzle of a pan far way from the kitchen, which made things even more surreal. He refocused on the girl and saw her little face, confused and worried, realizing that he must be wearing a strange expression. "Sorry, what did you just say? "

"I promise that I will be careful." repeated the kid. Coulson wasn't even sure whether she meant a "promise" promise, or she was simply mimicking adult phrasing, but it generated such a surge of warmth and adoration, and his pain was eased a little.

"Thank you." he cleared his voice, deciding to change the subject, "Well, I'm gonna see if Agent May in the kitchen has whipped those steak into well-done. " he winked at the girl, "Join us when you finish here."

The girl blushed, and giggled. And Coulson thought it was the most beautiful sound he had heard in a very long time.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**E.A. L. Runaway asked whether Coulson and May knew it was Skye in the review. Originally, I think since it wouldn't be hard for them to access to foster care document, they must know about Skye's old name. But now I think it would be more fun (and still realistic) if they didn't know at the beginning. However, they were very smart agents.**_

_**And I would really appreciated it if you can help me on this:**_

_**I would like to know are there any Canon explanation of the meaning of the name "Skye"? I did some research, and it seemed to be just a rare cool name without much of etymology. **_

_**As you can see, I'm purposely avoiding referring to Skye as Mary Sue, and I would like to cross that dreadful name off my mind as soon as possible.**_

_**Thank you again for reading and reviewing. Thoughts about the plot are most welcomed.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**So sorry I wasn't able to reply the reviews immediately, but I read every one of them. Your reviews have encouraged me and motivated my writing.**_

_**Thank you for all the reviews and alerts. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

* * *

Coulson was a natural around kids, and May wasn't surprised. In the last few months, before all this craziness, she had seen how he bonded with the youngsters on their team, putting them under his wings with such open affection and protectiveness. Coulson was different, and she still couldn't decipher her own feeling towards that.

The kid was different too.

Contrary to what most people might think, May adored children, principally; she simply never fancy herself living with one for many obvious reasons. And to be honest, Mary Sue Poots wasn't a typical child roommate, either. True, that little creature climbed up and down different furnitures when she thought nobody was watching and poked at every piece of accessories she could reach, but she was also quiet, content with self-entertainment, and exceptionally obedient when the adults said no. Somehow, it made May feel connected.

The girl was less guarded at Coulson's presence, giggled at his jokes, and even shared her own opinion occasionally, things like "I like blue" or "can we please have pasta tomorrow". It was heart-warming to see their interaction.

May didn't get involved; she observed, and evaluated the situation.

However, May had made it her own responsibility to check on the girl everyday after-midnight since she found the girl had a dreadful habit of sending blankets across the room in her sleep. Unquestionably, the girl had strong legs. _She mig__ht be__ really__ good__ at __Taekwondo__ someday,_ May even caught herself musing on that once.

* * *

May gently tucked the girl back in; she couldn't help but smile when the girl softly snored in slumber. Nobody would see her like this in the darkness anyway, so she allowed herself to relax a little.

The door cracked, revealing Coulson's concerned face.

"Kicking blankets every day, huh? Do you think she's sleeping well? " he whispered.

May tiptoed out, leaving the door half-open behind her, "It could be just her bones trying to grow."

"It does that to kids? " Coulson raised his brows. She kind of enjoyed that she could still amaze him from time to time, no matter in what way.

"According my mother? Yeah." May added dryly, "She wasn't thrilled."

Coulson chuckled; May had to roll her eyes.

They stood together, listening to the kid's steady breathing.

After awhile, Coulson said quietly, "You know you can show her that you care."

"And what good will that do?" May said indifferently, refusing to turn around.

"Will it do any harm?" Coulson asked gently.

"We have to go back sooner or later, and she will hate us for that. Or even worse, she will hate herself. " She wasn't sure if she was talking about that girl anymore.

"Or she will remember that there's nothing wrong with her, and there are people care about her for who she is. " A hand laid on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. May finally looked up at Coulson, who was smiling a nostalgic smile; his eyes were searching for hers, "It worked for me."

_Did he mean what she thought he meant?_ She just couldn't let herself dwell on that. "Is that so? " she managed to sound casual, even mocking, but there was a short of breath that she highly doubted Coulson would miss.

"You're that good. She'd love it." The hand on her shoulder was withdrawn after another squeeze, and May secretively missed it already.

"If you say so." she remarked vaguely. After all, attachment was dangerous and expensive, and she was already overloaded with so many of those recently.

* * *

"What are you and Agent May?" The little girl queried while they were sitting on the floor side by side.

"We are partners." Coulson turned to look at the girl, "It means we work together and help each other out."

"Work on what?"

"Looking after you."

"So you are here because it's work? " Kids wore their hearts on their sleeves, even the most withdrawn ones. Coulson sensed that something was off at the instant. He instinctively knew he should tread water rather carefully.

"We had a lot of work to choose from, but we agreed that we liked working with you the best." The lie came up smoothly. Judging by the smile he received, it must hit the right button. Coulson then realized it was partially the truth - he wouldn't be anywhere else than the hard cold floor underneath him right now. Fondly, he tickled the girl's arm, which made her shriek in pure delight.

"Really? Agent May too?" she asked, panting.

"She does cook you your favorite every day, doesn't she?"

The girl nodded enthusiastically, "She made the best pasta in the world!" she cheered.

Coulson smiled at the dramatic gesture, "Make sure you mention that to her. She'd be very happy to hear it. "

"She doesn't like talking to me. She doesn't even smile. " the girl mumbled, effectively calmed down.

"She's not very good at it." Coulson eyed the girl sympathetically; an idea came to his mind. "You know what, you can talk to her first, show her how to do it. "

"But how? "

* * *

May loved the solitude physical training provided. It had held her together in the darkest days and she wouldn't give it up regardless of the scenario. She wasn't entirely happy about the study she now used as a makeshift gym though, since its poor-equipped state limited her training method to a large extent.

There was a light knock on the door, too soft to be from the only other adult in the house. May frowned, slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Sorry." the girl blurted the moment she saw May's face.

"What do you need?" May kept her straight face. Sometimes she felt that particular facade was all she could ever conjure up again. However, unintentionally scaring a defenseless kid like that left such bitterness in May's mouth.

"Are you...are you training?" the girl swallowed hard.

"Yes."

"Can I watch?"

"No."

"Can...can you train me?" May could see the last trace of bravado gone from the girl's upturned face.

"Do you know what's training for, Mary?" she hoped she sounded more amicable this time.

"For protecting people and cleaning up Agent Coulson's mess." Little face crumpled up in seriousness; May found herself alarmingly close to smiling.

"Did Agent Coulson put you on this?" Because she didn't believe the girl even knew about her training session in the first place, let along coming up with such an answer. It was really sweet though, for an Alpha male like Coulson to sacrifice his "ego" only to create bonding opportunities for the two of them.

The girl gasped at the question.

"I am very good at mind-reading." May said meaningfully. The girl stared in awe at her cryptic expression. Of course, the truth was she knew Coulson in and out, but it might be handy for discipline in the future if the girl was convinced that she had some sort of superpower. "And why do YOU want training?"

The girl was suddenly avoiding eye contact. She lowered her head, rubbing her slippers against the corner of the Yoga mat. Finally she groaned grumpily, "Can't you just read that too?"

_Smarty-pants. _But one would need more than that to outrun Melinda May. "I can. But training is a commitment; you have to decide why you do it. I want you to say it out loud."

"I want to grow up faster. Maybe people will like me better if they are not forced to babysit me. " the girl muttered, one of her hands picking at the other mercilessly.

May always thought she had had her fair share of sorrow, but the sight in front of her tugged at her heartstrings all the same.

"OK." She didn't know what else to say. How could she tell the six-year-old that growing up was not a cure-it-all, that selfishness, ignorance and cruelty were part of human nature. No, there must be something, reassuring but also honest, that she could use to comfort the girl. May thought hard. "Agent Coulson likes you." That was easy, and absolutely true. She paused, praying she could end right there, but the little girl began to look at her with sparkling expecting eyes. The girl had no idea what she was asking for. May regarded certain combination of words as more of a vow than anything else - Melinda May protected those she cared about. The girl was staring, holding her breath, as if she was at the fork where happiness and misery diverged. And May knew there was no back-out anymore. "I like you too." she managed.

The girl beamed, "I know. Because you are not forced to." Surprisingly, May caught contentment in the girl's voice, like some theory of hers was finally tested out.

"Your training will be in this room, every morning at 9:30. Don't be late." Just a moment of tenderness and May was back to her old self, "Now go, let me go on with mine."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**Profound thanks to E.A. L. Runaway, Helena. and websky for providing information/inspiration on the name "Skye". You expand my original idea and you can see if you like it in hopefully next one or two chapters.  
**_

_**To AgentMaryMargaretSkitz and Hofherrp: I'm looking forward to actually writing those bonding scenes too. But it will take some time for them to get there. It's Melinda May, after all. Baking cookies is great idea; I'll keep that in mind. Maybe I'll let them make some Chinese pastry instead, just to keep things fresh.  
**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Your reviews and alerts make my day. Sincere thanks to all of you who accompany me on this writing journey. Again, please excuse my deficiency in English language. I'm trying.**_

* * *

"Is it bad?" It was the sixteenth time the girl looked up at her after doing a pose, which occured during their fourth training session; May was getting more and more frustrated with the girl's insecurity and, furthermore, whoever was responsible for that.

"No, it's about average." It was also the sixteenth time May tried to reply with patience and honesty. May didn't sugar-coat her words to kids, not even for good purposes, but she went on saying, "You'll get better if you practice every day."

"Every day while I'm staying here?"

"No, every day till forever." May deadpanned. She wasn't joking really, but she was also not going to elaborate on that. The girl gasped.

Only a few more punches later, the girl looked up again, "How long will I stay with you anyway?"

"I don't know. We will see." May hoped her straight face would prevent the kid from asking this question ever again; at the same time, she had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't work at all.

"Can you mark it on the calendar when you know? " the girl seemed unfazed. She blinked her eyes innocently, "I learned how to read calendar and count down days two foster homes ago."

That little person managed to say the saddest thing in the world all the time without even trying. May pursed her lips noncommittally and changed the subject, "Do 10 more kicking and we will call it a day."

Fortunately kids usually had short attention span. The girl immediately dropped the previous issue and focused on the new one, "Can I do 20 and you show me how to somersault?"

The girl might be the first apprentice ever who dared to bargain with her, but May couldn't get mad. "Deal." she said, "The ones not reaching the same height as my hand don't count, you understand?"

Nodding in earnest, the girl started practicing. May elegantly moved herself out of her way. Apparently, the girl had good muscle strength for her age, but really lousy targeting ability.

* * *

Coulson was sitting in his room with the door wide open. He knew May was keeping a close eye on him, and this was practically his subtle way of inviting her in. It was pathetic, really, but he wasn't comfortable with initiating the talk when something was bothering him.

Neither did May.

Maybe that was why they were best friends for more than two decades - as reluctant as they were to open up themselves, they could sense it when the other need a push and never hesitated to do it.

＝x=

"Something bothering you? "

Looking up at the voice, he smiled at the figure standing in the doorway, relieved, "Little munchkin called me A.C. today."

"It sounds ridiculous on you." May looked amused, "Why did she do that?"

"She says 'Agent Coulson' is too long and hurts her tongue." Coulson grimaced.

A rare smile played on May's lips, "She knows how to spell already? Intelligent girl."

"She asked me to spell it for - That's NOT my point." he didn't mean to sound like whining though, "Skye used to be the only one who called me A.C."

"Uh, that one..." May said fondly, her gaze, however, fixing on Coulson's face. "You are worried about them." she pointed out, straightforward and precise as always.

"We literally vanished into thin air, and have no idea when we will return." Coulson sighed, "What did they think had happened to us?"

May had no answer for that. Instead, she sat down beside him, "They can handle themselves. You taught them well." her knees bumped into his, "They are smart kids...Adults, they are smart adults. They know to lay low, stick together and survive."

Between the two of them, May was the pessimist; hearing those word from her lightened his heart more than he had imagine. He managed an uncertain but grateful smile. "But I still feel like I let them down...stuck here,at this moment, when we are trying to rebuild S.H.I.E.D..." he said slowly.

The look on May's face was undecipherable, but her voice was warm, "You are doing your best, Phil. There's nothing else you can do about it." she paused and inhaled, "See this as a compulsory break from your duty. We never like it, but it helps us get back on our full speed."

"I didn't know you became such a persuasive talker." Coulson didn't know what to say, so he lamely chose to joke.

"I had a long time to myself, thinking." May responded solemnly. There was a moment when Coulson thought she was gonna say more, and but she just stopped. Coulson decided to push a bit further.

"And are you taking your own advice?"

"It's not that simple Phil."

"Agree. But it's also not so complicated as you believe." May glared, but Coulson continued pointedly, "You always say people believe what they need to believe."

"Phil..." Only a weak protest got out.

"Just think about it, ok?" said Coulson gently, "You take upon yourself to look after everyone. It's hard for me to see you... " he trailed off, fully aware that May might not appreciate the sympathy.

May didn't reply, but she didn't snap, either. Coulson took it as a hopeful sign.

* * *

They decided to spend the afternoon in a park. Locked up indoor was not beneficial to children, and so far no threat or intel had indicated that outdoor activities were high-risk. What's more, the kid was as dedicated to her training as a six-year-old could ever be; May would like to see the outing also as a reward.

They chose a park remote from their safe house - a precaution in case they needed to cover their tracks - with lakes, playground and trees.

To their bewilderment, among the three of them, the little girl was the least enthusiastic one about the outing. She had shrugged and said "ok but I don't like parks", and refused to explain why.

=x=

"Can I sit here with you guys?"

Coulson and May settled on the bench at the side of the playground, mimicking the other parents around, with the doe-eyed girl lingering around them, begging pitifully.

"We are boring old people. Go play with other kids. Run around." Coulson nudged the girl, pointing at the playground.

May was taken back by the morose look on the girl's face. She heard Coulson saying with kindness, "You want me to come with you?"

The girl shook her head mutely and turned around, dragging herself toward the crowd of screaming children around the slide.

Coulson shared a concerned look with May. They watched the girl take two rides on the slide, climb up the monkey bar like a pro and perch on it for a while, and in the end crouch down beside the sandpit.

It was late summer and the sand was likely burning hot, which must be the reason why no other children were playing in the sandpit. The girl wasn't actually playing either. Judging by her posture, she was most likely watching the non-exist fairies in the sand castle.

"She's too isolated for my liking." May finally arose, "I'll stay closer."

=x=

May took the place next to the girl, who was still eyeing the sands with incomprehensible concentration.

"What are you doing Mary?"

"Can I play with it?" the girl pointed at the sand.

"Be careful. It can be a little hot." she carried on before the girl was able to hide her disappointment, "But you can if you really want to."

The girl had picked up two handfuls of sand before she even finished talking. "Uh." she stuck out her tongue, and quickly let go, "you are right. It's hot."

May chuckled to herself, people like them just couldn't be convinced unless they saw it for themselves.

The girl was madly swiping her hands against her shorts, when suddenly her whole body froze. She looked up at May with wide fearful eyes.

"What's wrong? Did you burn yourself? "

"No." The kid kept holding her sandy hands behind, rigid.

May then realized what this was all about, because the kid was trying to clean up her shorts using her forearms and back of her hands in an extremely awkward way. _Did she seriously believe that May would be mad at her dirty clothes? _

At her wits end with this kind of situation, May just went for what she was familiar with, "I'll show you a new move. Practice." She bent her knees and demonstrated a clean jump, landing at the center of the sandpit lightly, "This is called standing long jump."

"I can jump INTO sand?" the girl gasped, her hands returning to her shorts. She eyed May cautiously after another wipe and found a tiny smile on the elder woman; she exclaimed, "You're so cool!"

May wondered whether she could include that last sentence in her mission assessment.

=x=

The girl indulged in her jumping practice contently. She wasn't a happy kid, but at the same time was surprisingly easy to please - her face lit up whenever May leaned over to give instructions. It was just like their training session, where the girl straightened up every time she talked to her. May felt herself important on a whole new level - not a deathly weapon, not an irreplaceable asset, but a person a kid looked up to.

Out of the corner of her eye, May saw a huge guy walking towards them. She had had her eye on that guy for a while, only because he would be difficult to take down. So far, the guy didn't appear to be a threat: early thirties, low-middle class outfit, had been playing with kids at the slide before they showed up...He could be a young father and nothing more.

The guy came up to them, smiling. "Your little girl is precious, ma'am." he said, "Please excuse my words, but is she a little unsocial? "

May sensed the girl attaching herself to her thigh immediately, tensing up. Furious, May was definitely feeling furious; but she opted for fake amiability, "No, she's a sweet girl. She is just kind enough to keep me accompanied."

"My apology. I have no ill intention. Just want to see if your daughter likes to join us. My daughter and her friends, they are over there." the guy gestured toward the slide; he did have a charm.

"And which one, may I ask, is your daughter? " May continued baring her teeth. The girl was desperately tugging at her shirt and she had to make it fast.

"Little Amy, blonde, blue dress. See..." the guy replied in confidence, but May's heart sank. The guy and the kid, they did look like they could be blood relatives, but May remembered with exceeding clarity that said girl didn't show much intimacy when the two interacted. Whatever this guy was up to, she had to separate him from all these kids as soon as possible.

"Why don't we let the kids figure things out by themselves. You and I can have a nice chat over there." May smiled persuasively, grasping the guy's hands with both of hers. It could be regarded as a coarse but innocent gesture, or it could be a good start to overwhelm the guy.

The guy was clearly taken by surprise. His sleeve was pulled up a little and May caught the sight of something with a familiar shape and metallic luster.

_Dammit! Didn't see that coming._

Taking a glimpse of the surrounding, May saw Coulson was taking action.

"Dad's coming to get you home. Go!" she commanded in a low but firm voice, praying for the girl getting the hint.

Just a split second of distraction, May heard a loud CRACK and felt excruciating pain in her wrist. Both enraged and terrified, May lurched herself at the guy.

"Fancy meeting you, Mister." she spat sarcastically, "Luckily I've met your 2.0 version already."

There was shouting and screaming in the background, hundred of tiny childish voices, and she recognized her little girl's instantly. Was she harmed, or just scared? Did Coulson get to her in time? Was there a second assaulter?

There was no room for any futile thoughts. Her mind was falling into numbness as they rolled on the ground, hands at each other's throat. She was in hand-in-hand combat with a Deathlok. Even without Fitzsimmons collecting data and calculating the winning rate, she wouldn't bet money on herself.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**To agentsj3: sorry, they didn't bring Lola with them :( I actually thought about it but decided that riding on a flying car is not **__**really **_a good way to "stay low".

_**To E. A. L. Runaway: You are right. I feel sorry for little Skye in my story setting already.**_

_**To all the other reviewers: Thank you for your encouragement.**_

_**I hope you are ok with how I explore little Skye's psyche. I don't know if you think she is a little inconsistent. I feel like kids' inner-self can be very flexible and I try to develop more than one facet of her personality.**_

_**And please allow me to ask a really silly question: how do you feel about my cover image?**_

_**Comment on plots and characters are most welcomed.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you for all the alerts and reviews. Especially the reviews, they are so lovely.**_

**_SORRY, I re-upload this chapter because of some typo._**

* * *

Coulson lost track of time.

He was still baffled and distraught. For one second everything seemed so peaceful, and the next thing he knew, May was in a vicious fight and he was clutching the girl in his arms, who sobbed and screamed and, to Coulson's utter amazement, managed to deliver May's message in between.

He took the girl away; not for one second did he look back. It was the best for all three of them. They made a detour back to the safe house. Nothing else was out of ordinary so far.

After hours of tearful questions about May's status, the little girl eventually drifted off. Coulson looked out of the window at the pitch-dark sky.

He thought he had forever lost the ability of reading May like an open book. After Bahrain, even when they reunited on board as a team, May was guarding so many secrets and darkness. He had felt betrayed, but also defeated, that May succeeded in having a deal with Fury behind his back; he thought he knew better.

Today was different.

Coulson couldn't remember the last time when he was allowed to quietly watch the petite woman without disturbance. Before Bahrain, May had been constantly moving, perky and energetic; afterwards, she simply hated people staring, and Coulson had respected that.

Therefore, it was indeed a luxury to see May in civilian clothes, hovering over the little girl like a mother-eagle. Softness radiated from her, even though her profile was all serious and vigilant; oddly, the combination suited her just fine.

Coulson still wasn't entirely sure what tipped him off, but he knew something was wrong. The subtle changes of all the aspects of May's body language was so undetectable to the world, yet so obvious to his eyes. If it wasn't for the urgency of the situation, he would have been proud of himself.

The sun had far gone and he hadn't heard from May. Coulson decided he would wait for another hour before requesting a retreat team from the Hub, regardless of the amount of yelling and threatening he needed to make.

Suddenly, the front door cracked open.

With one hand on pistol, he turned around, only to look May right in the eye.

Experiences didn't help prepare him for seeing a Melinda May off battlefield. Her pale skin was covered by bruises and gashes; her hair was disheveled. The loose white T-shirt and denim shorts she had reluctantly threw on that morning were mottled with dirt and suspicious dark red. She was gingerly cradling her right arm.

_Girl?_ She mouthed before he got chance to say anything.

He stepped aside, revealing the lump in slumber on the sofa. "Mary," he shook the girl gently, "look who's back."

The girl bolted up and looked around; her gaze fell on the elder woman's discolored face. Startled, she bursted out crying, flying into Coulson's arms.

Coulson hoisted the girl up without averting his eyes from May, not sure which girl he should comfort first.

With her jaw clenched, May solved the problem for him. "I need a shower." she said. Her voice was hoarse and emotionless.

* * *

May suspected that not enough hot water would ever warm herself up again. She had submerged herself in lake water for God know how long. And that was after she literally dug her fists into an armor for countless times.

Of course, everything paid off when she was back "home" again and found the girl sleeping, safe at least.

She debated over whether she should attend to her wound in the privacy of her room. But her back was killing her and she barely had the strength to lift her good arm over her shoulder. Sometimes, pride had to give in to practical reason. It was her job to be the statue, the tin woman, the one who held together the safety net when the rest of the world fell apart; the sooner she got back on her feet the better.

=x=

There were medical supplies lined up on the kitchen counter when she finally marched back to the living room. The man standing beside it smiled gently and invited her to take a seat, for which May was embarrassed, but mostly grateful. Coulson spared her from asking for help. He also tolerated with her usual inarticulacy in expressing appreciation, and she loved him for that.

She lifted herself onto the kitchen counter. _Where did he get you?_ His eyes were asking. He knew her wariness, and he was waiting for her permission to proceed - another loving trait of Philip Coulson.

She tugged the back of her shirt up a little and felt Coulson taking over. His finger pad grazed her skin, contradict to the metal scarps mercilessly burning into her flesh earlier that day. Before she savored the feeling, it was replaced by cold cotton balls, sending roaring waves of stings to her nerve-ends.

May shut her eyes and concentrated on the stinging sensation - a compromise between staying relatively responsive and passing out completely.

A bone-chilled object was applied to her bleeding knuckles, catching her by surprise. May jerked away, instinctively ready to fight back. Luckily, she paced herself by opening an eye first, which resulted in her changing her course of action completely just in time, given the fact that it was the girl standing in front of her, cradling an ice-pack against her chest. The girl was whimpering.

"A-agent Coulson asks m-me to..." she stammered, tears threatening to fall.

"It's ok. I'm just surprised. " May managed a smile between her split lips; her hand covered the girl's, guiding it to her injured right hand, steadied the ice-pack around her swollen wrist and added pressure to it.

The girl, however, didn't take her hand away, but help hold the ice-pack in position instead. It drew attention from May: the girl's eyes were puffy from crying; her cheeks were flushed with tear tracks on them. And May was struck by alarming acknowledgement that during the not-exactly-short time period they had been under the same roof, she never for once saw the little girl cry.

Apparently, the girl decided to use up her crying quota in one day. Streams of tears were reclaiming their position on her cheeks; her lips quivered in a way only children were capable of. May feared that the early incident had traumatized the girl inevitably; she sincerely hoped Coulson had assumed the duty of delivering post-traumatic consultation, because she herself would most certainly not play psychiatrist tonight.

It was hard for one to offer comfort when she didn't even believe in it, but the prospect of leaving the girl devastated caused unsettled feeling in May's heart. So she made a feeble attempt and said, "I look pretty scary right now, huh?"

The girl shook her head pitifully; she wiped her nose with her forearm in a sloppy manner. "No." she sniffed, "You look hurt."

From far away, she heard Coulson saying, "She's okay, Mary. Don't cry."

"I don't believe you." the girl sniffed again. Her eyes flashed accusingly in her own pre-mature way.

For a moment, May was completely speechless. The short conversation shed a new light on the girl's tears, and May almost felt ashamed that she took it differently. Then followed a split second of self-consciousness - her body was indeed hurting like hell. People around her had stopped saying such thing long time ago. Sympathy was not exactly appreciated in their line of duty. And her glare and silent treatment had effectively scared off those who still had the grace to cast a commiserative look at her.

But the girl was aware of none of those. She was gazing at her with such straightforward compassion. Well, to be honest, the girl was wearing an expression which reminded her of someone looking at an injured puppy; not that she felt offended by it in any way. On the opposite, May found it endearing. She was also in awe how a girl had been through what she'd been through still had that level of kindness and protectiveness in her.

"It's not as bad as it looks." she finally said. It was such a cliche.

The girl's eyes lingered over her face, with tenderness that didn't match her age. She didn't react to the words. Maybe she didn't understand.

It was different being at the receiving end of a child's candid sympathy. May didn't feel weak.

Her finger pads brushed over the young cheek, wiping tears away. The gesture somehow encouraged the girl to step closer. She rested her little head against her knee like a quiet kitten.

"I'll get better in no time." May said, her fingers combing though the girl's floppy hair, "I'm feeling better now." In fact, she was.

* * *

Bedtime was two hours later than usual. They huddled together on the small bed. The almost inconsolable little girl finally agreed to shut her eyes after the adults promised they would stay close and leave the light on.

May was awkwardly leaning against the headboard, using only her head as support.

"You should get some rest." Coulson said quietly.

May snorted. Any position with her upper body pressing into a surface involved was currently off-limit.

Coulson opened his arms. "Come here." he said, " Let me help."

May only closed her eyes in exhaustion. "I'm fine." she mumbled. Her sweat-glistened forehead told Coulson otherwise.

_Typical_. Coulson sighed, shifting himself next to her. "Come on," he coaxed, "at least I make a better pillow."

May shot him a sharp look, but she did lower her head on his shoulder.

They both struggled a little to get comfortable. Coulson positioned himself strategically so he wouldn't add pressure to her wounds; he felt May's shaky breath brushing his neck.

"You want some painkiller?" Or anything he could get just to relieve her suffering.

"Can't." May muttered bitterly, "Unless you wanna cover a child AND a drugged woman."

He would if he could. But May was right - they both had to stay alert in case the unthinkable happened. However, May was the one who had to pay the price. Apologetically, he tucked her close and whispered into her black curls, "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." May inhaled, which led to her dissolving into coughing; her body trembled while she tried to get back her bearing.

Coulson couldn't even pat her back to soothe her. He tightened his arm helplessly, hoping that he was able to at least prevent her from pulling more of her wounds.

It took a long time for May to calm down; her raspy breathing carved on Coulson's heart like a knife. He broke the silence only for the sake of not listening to that sound.

"What happened?" He had been itching to ask, but dared not bring it up in front of the kid.

"Self-explosion." May said curtly. Coulson raised his brows high.

"Yeah? How so?" May growled incoherently into the crook of his neck. "Ok, ok... ssh, sorry, we can talk later."

They fell back into silence. Coulson forced himself to focus on the two girls curling up around him; both were distinctive, but harmonic together. Again, the whole thing was surreal.

"Keep talking." May muttered.

"About what?"

"Anything..." May huffed, "Need distraction." Her right arm wound around his neck, so that she could take the liberty of using his other shoulder to elevate her injured wrist. Not many people would get it, but this was one of the moments when Coulson secretly thought Melinda May was adorable; he sometimes wondered if May would murder him for having such inappropriate thoughts.

"Uh, let me think...Here's a good one." he said divertingly, "You don't know the real first time I saw you."

"I don't?" May lifted her head and stared at him, slightly curious.

Coulson smirked, "The first time I saw you was in Academy, I was crawling under a pool table..."

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**Hope you don't feel this chapter too...what's the word, sassy? cuddly? Anyway, I love writing comforting details. It soothes my nerve too. And frankly speaking, I think these characters deserve it, and we cannot rely on TV shows to get**__** such scenes**_, at least not in the near future. 

_**I grew up in a household not so open to affection in real life, so I am kind of awkward in both delivering and receiving affections. Therefore, I had a hard time deciding whether the scenes I wrote was reasonable.**_

_**I'll stop babbling right now.**_

_**Thank you for Socially Awkward Oreo Monster, E. A. L. Runaway, jotos001 and Hofherrp who shared their opinions regarding the plot and characters.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I'm so glad that you guys enjoy this story. Profound thanks to all the reviewers. I am so grateful for your support.**_

_**Real life takes priority but I promise I'll never give up on this story. I just moved to a new country and there're so many things going on.**_

* * *

Not until he woke up by the noise did Coulson realize he had fallen a sleep sometime during the wee hours. He opened his eyes and found the kid thrashing around and whimpering. May, who no longer leaned against him, was in a futile endeavor of coaxing the kid back to peaceful dream.

Immediately, he scooped the girl up into his arm, confining her limbs sticking out to all directions. He held her upright against his chest, petting her back gently and murmuring comforting nonsense.

The girl quieted down eventually. She was shaking in his arms and his eyes met the glassy brown ones.

"Had a bad dream?" he smiled warmly at her.

With her cheeks still flushing, the girl nodded pitifully. She struggled a little in order to free her arms from his embrace and rub her eyes. Looking between him and May uncertainly, she bit her lips, "Sorry."

At that moment, she looked much older than her age, which made Coulson's heart tighten. "Why say sorry? There's nothing to sorry about." he said kindly.

"Mrs. Lynn got so mad when I had bad dreams, said I am noisy." said the girl tearfully, her shudders escalating. It took a lot of self-control to keep smiling at such revelation, but Coulson did it anyway. Without warning, the girl threw her arms around his neck and clung to it for dear life, as if she finally decided he wasn't mad at her as well.

He just held her tight. A brief look was shared between he and May. Even though she was wearing the unreadable face as usual, her eyes sorted out his overwhelming emotional mess and conveyed encouragement for him to handle this.

"Do you often have bad dreams, sweetie?" he asked.

"Yeah." she nodded, her jaw digging into his shoulder.

"Do you wanna tell me what it's about?"

"It's always the same thing." The girl's voice was muffled by his shirt, but Coulson could sense the tears coming with it. "There're two green monsters... They run after me." she hiccuped; Coulson smoothed her back gently. "Someone is holding me a-and I can't move...then there's green light, really really bright, and I fall. Then I wake up."

The piece of cloth around his shoulder was soaking-wet. He pried the girl away carefully so he could look at her. The girl looked so scared and worn-out. Coulson was reminded of the antique porcelain doll he and May once encountered when they were stationed in Europe - something delicate and fragile; something they couldn't keep with them forever.

May had already fetched the towel so he cleaned up the tears and snot smothering the girl's face. She curled up in his lap once he finished. "I'll be good. Please don't leave me to monsters." she looked at the adults timidly, pleading.

The only thing he could think of at the moment was pulling the girl into another warm embrace. "We will never leave you to monsters, sweet heart." his eyes caught May's and he saw the softness in it again. "May beat the bad guy today, and we will do it every single time. Now close your eyes and try to get some more sleep okay?"

"'kay." the girl said obediently, even though Coulson was pretty sure, from what he learned about the girl in the past few days, she wasn't fully convinced. He only hoped they had enough time to change that.

He let the girl nestle against his chest and draped the blanket over her. Nobody talked for a while. Coulson and May both were no strangers to recurring nightmares now; his was TAHITI and god know what hers was. The only way they had been dealing with it seemed to be nothing other than bottling it up. But still, he couldn't imagine a six-year-old had to go through the same ordeal as the two of them did. At the thought he turned to look at May, who mouthed "_you did well_" back, and his heart lightened a little.

And when he looked down again, the girl was out like a light.

=x=

Sunshine took place of lightbulb to brighten the small bedroom. Coulson's arms were getting sore because of the weight of a little sleeping beauty. He himself was in a haze when May spoke up beside him.

"Sorry?" he missed what she was saying completely.

"It was a Deathlok."

"Sorry?" he got it this time but he couldn't trust his hearing.

May huffed impatiently, "The man at the park, he's a Deathlok."

If he had forgot what "heartbeat stopped" felt like the first time, now he knew. "Tell me what happened." he could barely contain his emotion.

May was practically whispering. "He disguised himself as a father, inviting Mary to play with his kid. And then I saw it." He had a pretty good guess of what "it" was, so he didn't interrupt. "It was hard to overwhelm him, without, um..." she couldn't continue. He suddenly recalled that she had to hold "the staff" last time to get the whole team out. It came with the job of course, but he should have been more empathetic, shouldn't he?

"So how did you...?"

"I lured him into a lake." she smirked dryly, "thought since he's all electronic...It's a lucky guess. Apparently they didn't waterproof him well enough."

"He just exploded in the water?" he just wanted to make sure. By no means did he mean to sound like he was suspicious of her, but the flash of hurt on her face showed how much he failed.

"After we entangled for another ten rounds? Yeah..." she said in a flat tone.

That explained the bloody mess on her back and arms - shrapnel of a metaled super-soldier.

"I did my best to cut it off clean, Phil." she murmured when he felt into silence.

"Of course you did." he said solemnly.

"He didn't have a dead-switch or anything. I checked."

"What do you mean 'you checked'?" May didn't answer, so he supposed "diving into water and examining every piece of debris" wasn't only his imagination; no wonder it took her so long.

"Oh Melinda." he sighed, unable to imagine what she had been through. But how was it different from the missions he put her through? Again, it came with the job. Except that this didn't feel like a mission anymore, it was getting personal to both of them.

"He might not even be targeting us. He was there before we did; he couldn't have anticipate that." he reassured her, "You did a clean cut-off. And now we are prepared."

"Uh. I don't want to wrestle with a Deathlok ever again." he knew she aimed for sarcasm but the uncontainable shudder revealed that she wasn't really joking.

Coulson actually prided himself on smooth talking, but he swore his brain cells died three times faster every time when he tried to work out something to say to May when she let her weakness be seen. "You'd keep yourself warmer before you get hypothermia." he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders before she could protest.

Her hand reached out and grabbed his in earnest. "The Hub can't know about this. Hydra..." she said desperately.

"Of course. We'll handle it ourselves. We can do it." he squeezed her fingertips attentively; her fingers were icy-cold. "Hold her." Coulson pulled her arm around the girl, "she's like a human brazier."

May awkwardly hugged the girl with one arm, when the latter became the proactive one by nuzzling up against the new embrace, her fist pressing against her breasts.

May grunted, a mixed sound of complaint and - what he supposed to be - joy.

It took a while for Coulson to remember that May still had tender ribs. But when he bent his head, he saw May burying her face in the girl's long curls.

Coulson smiled. He shifted so he could bear most of the girls weight. She might not be able to sleep, but holding the little person was the best reliever he could get for her.

* * *

The following day went on without any life-threatening event, well to be accurate, without more life-threatening than Coulson's cooking.

May sat at the table, both annoyed that Coulson had banned her from cooking, and amused that the man himself was overdoing it by insisting to provide comfort food for lunch.

"Try not to set the kitchen on fire." she cracked a smile. And Coulson smiled back.

The girl was sitting next to her, holding the towel puppy. Usually this time of the day, they just finished the training session and the girl would retreat to her room and draw pictures quietly. But today they were taking a break in training, and the girl was at the heel of either of the adults for the whole morning.

May couldn't bear watching the girl do nothing but pick at her fingers, so she had taken a bunch of towels and paperclips and made a towel puppy out of them. It was an ugly misshaped puppy but the girl's eyes had lit up and had been attached to it ever since. _Why had it never occurred them to buy proper toys for the girl?_

The girl spoke up timidly when May was still deep in thought, "Does your hands hurt?"

"A little." she smiled back. In fact, it was not a little, especially after her handcrafting. And a modest amount painkiller could do nothing to help. She was calling upon all her compartmentalization skill to appear civilized and relatively cheerful, for the sake of the girl.

"You know what you can do, kid. Kiss it better." Coulson teased; May glared hard.

"What is that?" the girl asked innocently.

Coulson cast a meaningful look at her and May resigned to her fate.

"It means you kiss the boo-boo and make it feel better." Coulson explained.

"I don't think it works like that, AC." the girl giggled, making the you-are-silly face.

"It doesn't? How do you know before trying? Right, May?"

The girl was eyeing her too, searching for approval, so May nodded.

Encouraged, the girl leaned over and pressed a gingerly kiss over the bandage around May's wrist. It was new to the elder woman too; she tried her best to hold still.

"Feel better." the girl whispered.

Despite the cheekiness of the gesture, A warm fuss bloomed in May's stomach and she couldn't help but smile. She hadn't smile this much since a certain mission, even without being injured and agonized like she was right now. The imperceptible inner change of herself was scaring her.

"Thank you." she said, when Coulson praised, "Good job!"

"Does it work?" the girl blinked her eyes.

"It works."

* * *

May insisted they should reinforce the bedtime routine that night. Coulson thought 24 hours was too short a time period for a kid to bounce back, but he acquiesced by letting May handle it.

The two disappeared into the bedroom, and surprisingly, the entire house quieted down rather quickly.

He had expected May would come out at any minute. However, after what felt like hours passed, Coulson just decided to check for himself.

What should he find in the dim light from corridor was the girl, safely tucked-in and sound asleep, and May, who perched herself on the windowsill and was pressing the side of her head again the glass.

May merely nodded at his footsteps to acknowledge his presence. Coulson walked over to the window so they could see each other's face by the moonlight poured in between the curtains.

"Hey," Coulson whispered, "what are you doing here?"

A tired but genuine smile danced around May's face, "She fall asleep, doesn't she?"

Coulson smiled admiringly, but soon his face became solemn, "Why don't you do the same?"

"She may still suffer from nightmares. " May shrugged, "Besides, I feel more assured of her safety this way."

"I'll stay here and watch. You've been up for 40 hours straight, for god's sake."

"I napped." May smirked at Coulson's frustrated expression but it didn't reach her eyes.

Even God wouldn't be able to bend her will on this, so Coulson changed his tactic. He thought back to how she rested against the window, and got some idea. "Injuries' bothering you? Headaches?" he asked.

"Massive." A gruff reply and another humorless smile.

"And your..." Coulson touched his own throat, indicating the same anatomy of hers. He had seen the large hand-shaped bruise on her neck but was wary about bringing it up. He figured if the thing had deteriorated to the point that choking was involved, May might not be willing to talk about it. But now the bruise had turned even more purple-blue, which was even harder to ignore under the cold moonlight.

"Swallow hurts." May confessed slowly.

"It helps, you know, if you give it a little massage."

May swung her bandaged-up fingers and eyed him with self-mockery.

"May I?" Coulson offered. May's eyes actually widened a bit. She faltered for a minuted but nodded.

Coulson let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I have to do this you from behind you." he said gently.

May shifted forward, making room for him on the windowsill.

He took seat behind her, straightening out his arm with his palm upturned. May was already tensing up next to him. His hand went back tentatively, aimed to search for undamaged skin on her neck to position his fingers. All of sudden, an iron grip was on his wrist, May's sharp nails digging into his skin.

Coulson couldn't say he hadn't anticipated it. "Easy. You take full control." he swallowed hard and kept his voice unwavering, like nothing out of ordinary happened, "Show me where you want to place my hand."

A shaky hand grasped his fingertips and led them to the vulnerable soft spot over her thyroid cartilage. Coulson started lightly kneading the cramped muscles around the bruises, with limited movement May's iron fingers allowed. At some point, he could feel her strong quickened pulse beneath his finger pads. May was gripping his hand in desperation, and he wouldn't dream of asking her to let go.

His fingers moved in slow rhythmic circles, applying a little pressure occasionally. Her hand clinging to his was the only feedback he got. Considering her grip tended to loosen up little by little, he assumed he was doing all right.

Eventually May let go his hand, but her body was still as taut as a bowstring. Coulson had this guilty feeling that he was conducting a torture instead of a relaxing massage. "Hey," his finger motion slowed down, "we can stop if you're not enjoying it." He opted to deliver the sentence in a light-hearted "no-pressure" tone.

But May visibly flinched at his word. "I'm sorry." she sounded surprisingly diffident and ashamed, "I'm trying to, really, I'm trying..." she mumbled again and again, as if she was trying to convince herself, or to beg him to believe her.

He knew she was stubborn as hell about fighting her own battle and survive, but it never occurred to him to look in depth for the mortification buried underneath that. He thought back to her proud eyes, gritted teeth and her lips pressing into a thin line, and he couldn't help but feel he failed her somehow.

"Hey, I'm not gonna stop, ok?" he said softly, resuming the massage. They fell into silence again.

Minutes later, he switched to massage her temple - a spot she appeared to feel less defenseless about. Her body was slouched, her breath evening out. And Coulson detected something suspiciously like a low humming.

He didn't know how much time had passed when her weight slumped against his chest. He leaned over and checked - after almost 2 days on alert, May finally fell asleep. He attentively tucked her head under his chin; her crown was tickling his face. Her body was so soft and warm and small against his chest, and his shirt was too thin to bear it. He could smell the faint smell of her shampoo - something she had been using for years, something reminded him of his fearless youth; he always loved that brand. Warmth bloomed in his stomach and his nerve-ends was getting hypersensitive. He thought to himself hopelessly, _he cared about Melinda May very much, and not exactly like a friend._

He was not getting any sleep tonight, not while he was holding a certain woman close, not after his self-discovery.

* * *

_**TBC**_

_**OMG this chapter came out to be even more sassier. It will bounce back to normal in the next chapter, pinky-promise.**_

_**For those who wonder, May and Coulson didn't know about Mary's identity right now. But as you can see, I'm giving them hints little by little.**_

_**I know from reviews that many of you can't wait to see May and Coulson find out about Skye. I do too. But I have to stretch the story a little because it's also a May/Coulson story and I have to establish their non-platonic intimacy from scratch. They won't magically get involved if I don't let them spend more time in private. So please bear with me. It won't take long.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**For those who celebrate this, Happy Halloween!**_

_**Sorry I haven't got a lot time writing recently. Life gets a little bit hard. I'm not complaining, I know I asked for it, and might benefit from it eventually. I am surrounded by talented people, which makes me quite humbled at the moment. Therefore **__**your support, especially the explicit ones, means so much to me.**_

_**MORE IMPORTANT: Season 2 has been amazing so far. Usually I'm a Canon gal but I simply do not have to heart to add the same ordeals to the characters in my fiction. Therefore, "the present" in this story might deviate from the TV show Season 2, e.g. Coulson is not suffering from any obvious GH-325 side-effects. I want something stable for my Philinda, not the sword of Damocles over their heads. My heart broke for May in TV show, and I'm gonna give her a break in my fanfic. But at the same time I'll try to incorporate as much TV storyline as it fits, simply because it is just brilliant.**_

* * *

Coulson resented that he had to leave May at home solely responsible for a six year old, which, he realized, was abnormal, considering as Director he had relied on her to lead their operation on an almost daily basis. And he was certain it had nothing to do with the fact that May was still a little bruised at the moment. It was another wake-up call for him to see how vastly his feeling had changed since he was forced into this unusual "vacation". _See what domestic life does to people. _Coulson chagrined to himself, fully aware that the chance to undo such change was slim.

He pushed the scrolling cart further down the lane. As wary as he was of outdoor activities, the kid needed to be fed. May had made a long list for him to accomplish so that this supply trip would hopefully sustain them long enough, until they figured out more about the threat they were facing.

He gripped the piece of paper with May's neat handwriting on it, and thought in amazement how May managed to anchor him in the most unthinkable situation,ranging from the epical war they were fighting down to the finest details as trivial as a shopping list.

He held a dozing Melinda May two nights ago, which was totally unintentional and was the most intimate gesture they had shared in a very long time. The cuddling was put to an end when the kid whimpered in her dream and May leaped to her feet to comfort her. Not only did she neglect to question the odd position they had been in, but she sat on the floor right next to the kid's bed for the rest of the night. Coulson tried very hard not to overthink the reason why. He also knew, based on the experience, what happened that night were unlikely to be brought up ever again.

Buried in his own thought, Coulson didn't realize he had wandered aimlessly into the candy section. It took a surprisingly long time for him to figure out why he subconsciously felt that he had some sort of "unfinished business" with the colorful packages on the shelves. Then it clicked - he did have a kid at home. He wondered briefly why no-treats-in-the-house hadn't come up as a serious problem so far. But to be fair, the girl didn't ask for a lot of things that an average child would throw a tantrum without.

Coulson found himself visualizing the bright smile on the girl's face when he showed up with candies. For a moment, he stood still in the middle of a crowded supermarket, smiling to himself like a fool.

=x=

Coulson didn't have much memory of the candies in 90s, since clearly he had grown out of sugar addiction years before that. Clueless of what to choose, he picked up some decent-looking ones, instead of the ones which looked like cheep colorants wrapped in plastic. Still, there was one more item to find.

He never thought he'd get back to the right time to get that exact same brand, which, like many other brands, disappeared eventually in market competition.

_1991, Vienna Schwechat Airport terminal, his partner handed him a piece of chocolate, the darkest he ever saw, which she just bought from the convenient store nearby. He took a bite and almost spat it out like a spoiled brat, because it tasted bitter and sour, like nothing he ever tasted before. He cast a pained look at his partner and she smirked back wickedly - the same smirk she wore every time after she pulled off a prank. _

_"99% cocoa. This's what real chocolate is like. " she waved the wrapping paper._

_"It's not." he whined, "Chocolate is supposed to be sweet."_

_"No, it's not. Besides, it's good for your blood vessel." she teased him._

_He was searching for something smart to get her back, but was grasped by the scene in front of him. Melinda, lazily nestled herself in the armchair, was munching on her piece of chocolate, with her eyes closed and a dreamy expression. Her lips moved when she took time to savor the melting chocolate. When she finally finished, she opened her mouth slightly and sighed in content, "I love it. It has a one-of-a-kind smooth texture." She licked her chocolate-stained upper lip, only to leave more dark brown traces there. _

_Coulson just stared, like a boy at his puberty._

He hadn't shared a chocolate bar with her since then. 99% dark chocolate wasn't exactly popular in the States, but he bought a piece whenever he saw one. _It was good for health anyway._ At least that was what he had told himself. Year passed by, and he learned to appreciate the special bitter-sour taste; it helped that he associated it with his old partner - unique, mysterious, seemingly aloof on the outside but silky smooth on the inside.

He spotted the package, which was exactly the same as he had remembered, and smiled triumphantly. His heart squirmed when he tried not to think about how dorky he might seem to be, nervous and expectant at the same time, in a very non-fifty-year-old way.

* * *

"30 seconds. Make up your mind, kid. " May urged in a half-hearted stern manner.

She had been playing "Gobang" with the girl for two hours, which was a huge improvement compared to their first hour, considering the latter was basically sitting together on the sofa in silence. She had to admit the idea of entertaining a kid was still kind of awkward to her. But she'd rather deal with awkwardness instead of letting the girl out of her sight.

It took her literally an hour to call on her courage to suggest a game, which really didn't match her glorious record as a S.O.. Fortunately, the girl was quite cooperative. Gobang was a game with simple rules and was played on a Go board, which meant the girl could catch up fairly quickly, and they could make do with a pencil and several pieces of paper. And, once your opponent had grabbed a hold of it, the game became quite enjoyable.

Compared to their training session, May found the girl demonstrate even more of her intelligence playing board game. Only after a couple of rounds, she had figured out some useful strategies and was able to gain the upper-hand occasionally.

May learned how to play Gobang from her mother. Her usually restrained and demanding mother would praise her for "being sharp and observant" whenever she came up with a counter measure to her sneaky moves, and would listen to young Melinda bragging about her victory with a smile. That was one of her few childhood memories that made her heart warm and light all the time. The game was not as popular among her colleagues, so it had been a while since she played with someone. She hadn't expected the girl to be such a desirable companion, but honestly she was enjoying it more than she would admit to herself.

There was uncontainable excitement dancing in the girl's eyes when she made the next move, and May knew she was planning on something. She decided only to fight back at the last moment so the girl would have chance to implement her plan before that. Confidence made the girl glow, and she felt the obligation to nurture it. That must be how her mother had felt on the other side of the Go board. May couldn't help but feel like she was passing on some precious tradition.

=x=

May's scanning at the Go board was cut short by a pile of plastic packages showered over.

"What the..." May bit back the rest of the swearing restrainedly. She looked up and met Coulson's smiling eyes.

"Are those candies?" came the squeaky exciting voice of the little girl.

"Yeah. You girls share nicely." His eyes twinkled with irrepressible mischief. And before May could say anything, Coulson was out of the room.

A 5-inch chocolate bar was quite eye-catching among other tiny sweets, and May saw it almost immediately. Her heart didn't skip a beat at the sight only due to decades of training. She hadn't had her favorite chocolate for years - just one of the things she had to let go eventually. But Phil...

May's thought drifted back to two nights before. She woke up to what she vaguely recalled was a compromising position with Coulson, and ended up avoiding his body-heat for the rest of the night like escaping from a plague. May couldn't rationalized her own behavior. But what she had learned during all these years from dealing with the reality of life, was that if one determined to survive on her own, she'd better not relapse into what she might be addicted to.

=x=

"What are you gonna do with these?" The girl spoke up after examining the pile of candy with her naked eyes for a while.

"'What are WE gonna do with these.'" May corrected her, "You heard the man. Let's split them up." She caught the girl eyeing the chocolate bar greedily. "Gobang. Best-of-three. Winner gets to choose first. What do you think?"

The girl appeared to be surprised that she was asked for opinion. But quickly enough, a big smile lightened up her little face. "Deal." she said ambitiously.

=x=

May could see how the incentive do magic to the girl's performance. But it was May who won the game over all. She had forty plus years of wisdom on her shoulders and, added to that, May didn't believe in sugarcoating the reality - if you were a six year old challenging an experienced specialist, you had to accept whatever outcome you get.

That being said, it wasn't easy to collect her trophy under the watch of a pair of disappointed saddened eyes. May simply snatched the chocolate bar, as she intended to initially. She wasn't a big fan of sugar anyway.

She felt the girl eyeing her every move, and could practically hear her swallow. Apparently the fancy Chocolate wrapping was far more attractive than her pile of childish-looking candies.

"You wanna have a bite?" finally May asked.

The girl hesitated, nibbling her bottom lip uncertainly.

"If you really want something, you should be able to say it." _Isn't it easier said than done, _she muttered inwards, "I'm happy to share, only if you make up your mind."

It took a few more seconds for the kid to form a timid but explicit request. Approvingly, May offered her a piece.

"Small bite first. " warned May. But the girl was already licking it；her face crumpled up at the instant.

"Gross isn't it?" The girl's reaction resembled a certain man so well that it brought a nostalgia smile on May's lips, "It's my favorite." She popped a large piece into her mouth, just to show her honesty.

The girl's eyes widened, as if questioning why adults always love weird things. It once had been May's guilty pleasure to trick other people into tasting 99% dark chocolate and watch their exasperation. That prank-driven May had long gone and she had been either purposefully or unconsciously giving up a lot of material attachment, her favorite desserts, bright-color outfit, etc. During her desk-work days, she consumed coffee more than ever, even though she hated it as always. Attachment can be used as a weapon, and she could not afford to be weak again.

May could rationally analyze herself, but she couldn't prevent herself from being struck by the familiar content and triumph she alway had felt after pulling such prank. She swallowed hard. "Now you should be satisfied with your proportion I assume? " she looked at the girl, who was still wearing a disgusted and also puzzled expression, "I'm not going light on you. Just that this chocolate was intended for me in the first place."

Maybe child psychology was more complex than what she had learned, but the girl's face seemed to turn into a mixture of shock and envy. On an almost irresistible impulse, May smiled smugly.

Somewhere at the back of her mind, May knew what she just said was true. But saying it aloud somehow made it more real. Her heart fluttered and she was touched and alarmed at the same time. Not until she actually savored it did May realized how exceptional the gesture itself was; and she dared not to think about why it happened.

* * *

_**TBC**_

**_*Gobang: _**a game played on a go board with players alternating and attempting to be first to place five counters in a row.

_**Dear all, hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm already working on the next chapter, with the beginning of revelation in it. And I'll try my best to update soon.**_

_**Also for those who'd like to maybe discuss about this fandom or anything else, my new tumblr account is rainydelia.  
**_

_**Thanks for reading and please leave your opinion.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thank you for all the amazing reviews and alerts. You guys rock. You're so generous with your praises.**_

_**And thank you for being patient with me :)**_

_**Respond to your concern: There's unlikely to be any spoiler of season2 in my story. But if somehow I borrow some background info from season 2 canon, I'll try to warn you at the beginning of that chapter. **_

* * *

Coulson lifted his eyes from newspaper and saw Melinda wandering into the living room, chocolate bar attached to one of her hands.

"Thank you." she said almost sheepishly when she noticed him gazing.

"My pleasure." he was playing cool, which itself wasn't cool at all considering he had more than 20 years of experience under his belt. He deliberately took some time to clear his throat and changed the subject, "I saw you two playing Go on papers. Clever."

"It was Gobang, not Go." May said, sitting down next to him on the sofa, while he neatly folded the newspaper and put it on the tea table. "Would have wasted too much eraser to play Go."

"Gobang, as in Wu-zi Qi?" Coulson asked, vaguely recalling the exotic term he was taught in another lifetime.

A surprised smile hovered over her lips. "You remember." she said, soft glint dancing in her brown orbs.

"Of course I remember." he felt hotness to the cheeks, "Have one more game with me?"

"Sure."

=x=

While May was busy drawing a new Go board, Coulson sneaked up on the chocolate left on the tea table and cracked a large piece off. May looked up at the sound and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Sharing is caring." he smiled lamely, intimidated for no good reason.

"You hate dark chocolate." she stared at his face, suspicious.

"Decided that I love it." responding nonchalantly, he munched on his chocolate and let his mouth filled with the melted liquid.

"You almost threw up the first time."

"I was young back then." he added punningly, "Didn't know what's right for me."

"And now you know?" her voice was low and hesitated.

"Now I know." he said firmly. He looked into her eyes on purpose, and found her staring shrank under his scrutinization. She pressed her lips together and resumed drawing.

Apologetic for causing her uncomfortableness, Coulson switched into a playful tone, "Think I can beat you in 50 today?"

"Haha, only in your dream." May didn't look up, but Coulson was relieved to hear the brightness back in her voice.

* * *

May noticed how distracted Mary appeared to be during their training session. Every move she made was only half way to May's standard and she did them all with a grumpy face. Mary had also ignored her repeated warning, which was really the last straw that breaks the camel's back.

May wasn't quite sure what was the proper boundary here. On one hand she felt the obligation to be lenient with the girl, who - she kept telling herself in mind - was not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent after all; on the other hand, she refused to be a pushover.

"Stop. What's worse than doing nothing at all is doing it wrong. Muscle memory is hard to change." she said in an extremely calm voice - most of her rookies would pee in their pants hearing that - and sternly looked at the girl, "Do it again from the beginning."

The girl stopped and looked back at her; her thin little jaw clenched but her eyes flashed in grievance. May didn't budge; she gestured, urging the girl to start moving.

Suddenly the girl snapped. "You suck!" she stamped her foot, her face flushing.

"Mary Sue Poo-" May started disapprovingly, but she kept her emotion well-controled. She had promised herself that under no circumstances would she lose it in front of an innocent girl, never again.

"Don't call me that!" the girl screamed and kicked hard, sending one of the cushions flying in the air.

" - that's not the kind of language we use here. " May raised her eyebrow at the unexpected outburst, but went on finishing her sentence like nothing happened.

The girl stiffened up all the same. She peeked at her fearfully, as if just recognizing what she had done. Her short tantrum vanished as fast as it appeared. It was clear half of her body was prepared to run, while the other half seemed to be too stiffed to do so.

May's glare softened. She was familiar with fear herself and could recognize it when somebody was feeling trapped in fear and has nobody to turn to. The girl wasn't making a fuss; something must be wrong.

The truth was, May was clueless about what was going on, and even more clueless about how to react. Therefore, she just went after her instincts. "Take a deep breath and sit down." With an authoritative but kind tone, She gave the girl a mild look and sat down to rearrange the cushions, giving her space to handle herself.

Moments later she felt the girl gingerly sitting down where she had stood. "I'm sorry." the girl mumbled shakily.

May looked at the girl who still refused to look at her, and asked gently, "What's wrong?"

The girl curled to herself a little. It was such a pitiful sight.

May sighed, "You can tell me anything. I won't be mad. Do you at least trust me on that?"

The girl looked up at her and nodded hesitantly. May rewarded her with an encouraging smile.

"Tummy hurts." the girl sniffed meekly.

Reproaching herself internally for neglecting to rule out that possibility first, May rushed into running diagnoses in her head. "Anything hit your belly? did you eat anything?" she asked._ Little kids had stomach issue all the time; no need to panic. Right?_

The answer was barely audible, "I...I ate candy after breakfast."

"How many?"

"All."

It was such a relief to hear that the cause could be as simple as that; May let her shoulders slacked, "You should have told me."

She wasn't reprimanding but the girl apparently took it otherwise. "Sorry." she sounded contrite and on verge of tears.

May just pretended her stomach wasn't wrenched in regret. She should have checked out things like this before starting the class. "May I have a look at it?" she asked tentatively, unwilling to cause another tantrum.

The girl bit down her lip, too timid to say no. May rubbed to warm up her hands, approached the wary kid and laid her hand on her belly.

The girl tensed up at her touch; May chagrined to herself. She knew it was not uncommon for foster children to feel alienated from human touch, but god knows how she herself could relate to that. She also knew from experiences that words only add to the humiliation she had at her own reaction, and nothing could be said or done to help until she grabbed a hold of herself.

"I'll try to be gentle. But tell me when it hurts."She instructed; simple clear instruction soothed her, and she hoped it do the same thing to the girl.

May pressed at several spots of her belly to assess the cause of pain, like what her mother usually did when she was a kid.

The girl winced but endured the poking quietly - she was a really tough little thing.

All the vital organs seemed fine, May finally decided it was probably just the gas. She smoothed out the front of the girl's shirt and sat back opposite to her, "You should have told me you wasn't feeling well."

"I shouldn't eat the candies." the girl seized the rim of her shirt.

"No you shouldn't. You made a mistake, but that doesn't mean you deserve to get hurt."

The girl looked at her uncertainly. May could practically read "that's not what I was told" out of that pair of brown lustrous eyes.

"You come to me when you're not feeling well." May simply reinforced the message. It would be too much trying to immediately reverse what had been installed in this girl by her upbringing - sin, punishment, whatever it might be. And May wasn't feel like a qualified person to address the issue - despite all the rationale, she still couldn't free herself from the idea of her own punishment.

"But whining is bad." the girl chewed on her lips, unsure whether it was acceptable to talk back.

May sighed, _how many times she herself was fed the same idea throughout her life?_ "Telling me is not whining. I'm your mentor. Have to know about it so that training doesn't hurt your health." she paused, thought it over for a moment and carried on, "And whining is not bad. It's just you haven't grown up yet." She wasn't saying whining was good - she would probably still pay very little respect to any whiny agents - but the girl was young and needed an outlet without feeling shame about it. Hell, didn't they all need that.

The girl stared at her with wide puzzled eyes. May briefly wondered how much she could really grasp or even remember.

May sighed again; she needed to clear her mind. She patted on the cushion. "Now you sit tight and wait for me." she said, "I have some tricks that can help."

=x=

Hot herb tea was brewed and cushions were made into a nice seat, with the girl settled in it while May showed her how to massage her stomach strategically. The girl had calmed down vastly and claimed that she felt better.

"So you don't like your name." May started. She had wanted to talk about that too, knowing from experience how hurtful an unpleasant name could be as a trigger.

"Would you like it if it was yours?" the girl asked slyly; May was glad she sounded more like her usual self.

"No." She answered honestly.

"Dah." the girl shrugged. "I wonder why they picked this name for me. I couldn't be bad that much as a baby, could I?" She lifted her face with uncertainty.

May was seriously in the mood of kicking some ass now. "You were never bad; that's not who you are." she patted the girl's knees assuringly, "The people who named you, they probably just randomly picked name from a name book. Remember, there were a lot of babies to name. It's definitely not because of you."

"I still think they did it on purpose so that big kids can call me Poop." the girl crumpled up her face in disgust and mumbled defeatedly. "Even my foster parents make fun of it. Their voice were really weird when they called me Mary Sue." she fidgeted and picked at her thumb nail. "I know it's dumb, but I didn't pick my name."

_Seriously, what kind of parents make fun of the name of a kid?_

There was a whole bunch of speeches about "name is just a code and doesn't define who one really is", but May decided against it because it sounded hypocritical at the moment, when the girl was real upset about her name.

Both of May's hands were on the girl's shoulders so she could looked at her face. "It is those people who are dumb. They are mean. They have no right to do that. Your name, it's not a mistake." The girl was avoiding eye contact and May didn't push, "However, it's okay that you happen to not like it, that you think it sounds less cool than others' names. Just like I think your shirt is prettier than mine today." The girl smiled a little at the last sentence; May continued, "If it really bothers you, you can give yourself a new one. It's your name. You make the ultimate decision."

The girl shook her head, "It's a joke. I'm only six. Nobody will take it seriously."

"I will." May said, which made the girl finally look at her, "Listen. It might take a while for everyone else to acknowledge it, yes, but it won't be a joke. If you give yourself a name, I'll call you by it, Coulson will call you by it, and one day all the people that care about your feeling will call you by it, too."

There was sparks bouncing in the girl's orbs and May knew she was persuaded. "You decide who you wanna be and that includes your name, you know what I mean?" the girl nodded, and then shook her head. May smiled at her bewildered face, "And whatever other people call you, that doesn't change who you really are." Again the girl nodded dutifully. "Sounds good?" May asked.

"Ummm."

"Let's have a try now, 'kay? You have anything in mind?"

The girl shook her head.

"Do you want any suggestion from umm, let's say - a name book?"

The girl shook her head again.

"Fair enough. Then what can be a good start? Maybe you can name yourself after your favorite people or things."

"I can?" The girl seemed surprised. She frowned, pondering over the advice, and slowly she said, "Can I use yours? What's your name?"

May felt herself blushing. Was the girl suggesting that she was her favorite person? "Melinda." she answered shortly.

"It's pretty." the girl commented politely. But she didn't look thrilled. It was almost comical to watch the girl trying to hide her inner thoughts.

Luckily May went to her rescue. "You don't have to take it." May said kindly, "It would be too confusing for Coulson anyway, if there are two Melinda in the house."

The girl giggled at Coulson's expense and seemed relieved. She mumbled something like "don't want a name start with M" quickly; May let it go. It felt like the idea of self-naming finally sank in and the girl had started to truly enjoying it.

May watched the girl contemplated in her usual adult-like seriousness for a moment and shrieked in happiness. "I know," she smiled the largest smile of that morning and clapped her hands, "how about 'sky'?"

* * *

_**TBC**_

_***Wu-zi qi**, as you can see, is Mandarin. Even though Ming-na obviously speaks better Cantonese than Mandarin (therefore so does May in my headcanon), since I don't, I'll let my Melinda refer to things in Mandarin version._

_**Dear all, I usually don't stop in the middle of a scene, but since this is the big revelation you've been waiting for so long...Okay the real reason is I wanna keep each chapter at a reasonable length. But who would say no to a cliffhanger, right? Anyway I hope you enjoy how I deal with this issue. Remember it's just a beginning...**_

_**Babbling Discussion regarding this chapter :**_

_**I hope my description of Skye's little tantrum seems **_**_reasonable, because really I have no experience to make a reference to... And there might be a little too much preaching in this chapter? Those are _****_what came to my mind when I tried to understand May's character, what I believe she tried to tell herself but couldn't because she was used to being who she had been. Those idea may not even make a lot of sense, so hope it doesn't bore you._**

_**Right now it's 3am on a school day, I'm crazy...**_

_**Thanks for reading and please leave your opinion.**_


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